Excelsior!
Skiggles panted, tongue lolling, as he watched Brieanna gear up. He didn't know much (never asking much), but he knew a journey was afoot, and they always brought a host of new smells! Sedge watched Brieanna dress with a similar expression, for reasons of his own...
Gnorvald scampered about, happy to be going on, getting closer to his goal. He knew that Roland's Cairn probably was within three day's travel (maybe a bit more), and would wager much that Brieanna knew the way.
Rix, travelling light, was pretty much always ready to go. Drakhar didn't exactly travel light, but he didn't consider that he needed much more than his mail, shield, axes, and warhammer, and he was ready.
Finn, not having taken his pack off since the "fight" with the beastmen, had nothing to gather, for a change. He was as ready as he would ever be.
Sedge, of course, had no hands, now, and little worry about equipment... for the time being. Hopefully, that would soon change!
Skiggles, of course, had even fewer worries, save getting stepped on by a careless companion. He watched as Brieanna finished gearing up.
The Centaur looked around, morosely. She hated crowds, and to her, this was one.
"Let us go," she said. Finn mounted Sedge, and she paused outside the barn doors to let the rest mount their steeds as she closed the doors, then lead them down the path to the road.
They travelled the rest of the day, in relative quiet, except for the bard's lute. Even the forest seemed hushed. Brieanna thought of her youth, and the destruction of her village, Roland's death, and all the legends of The Morgarth that she had ever heard. It all seemed hopeless, if they were to oppose... It.
Skiggles thought of little. His nose was busy. He didn't smell any rabbits, but there were some birds and lizards, although he couldn't catch sight of any of them. Didn't anyone want to come out and play?
Gnorvald thought about Roland's Horn, and how he could change the world, with it. He wondered...
Celina, too, was reviewing all he'd ever heard of Morgarth, in his own mind, which was increasing his unease, and worrying him, no end. He had heard too many tales, and almost none of them ended happily. Now, here he was, IN one!
Drakhar stumped along, glad to at least have something to do... He, alone, was looking forward to meeting this "Morgarth" character! No friend ever did a Dwarf a favor, no foe ever did one a wrong, without being repaid, in full. Payment had been due for a very long lifetime, and the interest rate was high. The principle was also quite huge: One Dwarven village, nearly all the inhabitants, a Clan's history, works of stone, art, and metal... Nay, even a thousand thousand loving strokes of his waraxe (or warhammer, whichever worked best) were insufficient repayment... He wondered if he could get this Morgarth in an Antimagic Shell, and... He drifted off into his imagination.
Rix was watching the way. Nothing much seemed to be moving, even as evening approached. That was odd. It was quiet, and that meant something. He wondered if Brieanna knew what.
Finn was busy with his own contemplations of the vision, and the day's events. For the moment, his empty wineskin... and the fact that its empiness had yet to bother him... had escaped his notice. He was too busy, for once, trying to figure out what Pelor wanted... Not the head Priest at the temple, not his instructors, not the members of the review committee; Pelor. And, he was stumped!
As the sun neared the western canopy of the forest, Gnorvald scowled, and looked around. No one was paying any attention to him (as usual), but he was wondering about camp. And dinner! He cleared his throat.
"Perhaps, good compatriots, we should begin looking for a place to sleep?" he piped. "It's time to bed my weary head!"
Startled from their private thoughts, the others looked around, murmuring assent. Rix pointed, then turned to Brieanna.
"What's that I can see there, Druidess?" he asked, pointing to a grey blot on the horizon.
"Ruins. I don't want to camp there." the centaur replied. Gnorvald sidled up to her, giving her a mournful look.
"Ah, dear... uh... Lady, is that where your red-bearded friend is buried? A place too sad to revisit, for you?"
"No." Brieanna shook her head, but said no more about it. "There is an open field a little way ahead. Come, hurry."
As darkness was falling, they entered the field, and quickly made a fire and set up camp just off the road. These woods were well guarded by Elves, and they had a Druidess with them, so they had no fear of brigands or animals, yet they found a defensible area, just in case of any other strangeness, similar to that morning's. A meal was soon prepared, and Brieanna, Skiggles, the eagle, Rix (who had said he'd take the midnight watch), Sedge, and the mounts were soon asleep. Brieanna's mice were let lose to fend for themselves.
Drakhar was even less communicative than usual, and even Celina seemed uninterested in drawing him out. Finn made a few attempts at conversation, more out of force of habit than anything else, then lapsed into silence, as well.
Continuing his unusually empathic behaviour, Gnorvald offered to take the first watch, and clean up after the meal. He was as good as his word, and as Drakhar rolled himself into his cloak, he saw the little Gnome banking the fire for the night, then quietly roaming about, the starlight barely glinting off his tiny dagger's blade.
Hours passed. The little Gnome fearlessly stalked the dark, quietly passing near the sleepers, in turn. Midnight passed, as clouds rolled in, but he let the Human Rogue sleep. At last, the Soul's Midnight came, and he passed through the camp for the final time. All were asleep, but he intended to make sure!
Moving back to the banked fire, he opened his magical spell component case, once again. Removing the false bottom, he reached deep inside, removing the mummified hand of a long-dead felon that he had gone to great pains - and no small expense - to harvest in the prescribed manner. Making several mystical passes with his hands, he spread the powder on his dagger's blade, passing it over the hand and the flame.
"...lock those who sleep in deeper sleep..." he mumbled, finishing his preparations, then tossed the hand into the banked flames, and quickly covered the coals.
There! He looked back at the others. All the adventurous fools, their mounts, even the dog and eagle, were all now locked in the sleep of the dead, held in the grasp of a Master-Thief's long-dead hand. They would not awaken until the hand released its grip, and with the fire banked, that would not be until he returned!
Looking towards the ruins, he levitated off the ground, winked out, and quickly flew towards them, to see what he could learn...
The camp was almost completely quiet. All through the field, not a creature was stirring... except for six mice. They moved cautiously through the grass, as all good fieldmice do, looking for seeds, and grains, and all such things as interest mice in their nightly forays. It was no wonder, to them, that Brieanna and the Humans slept the night away. Such was usually the case, with such large creatures. They scurried about the field happily, finding the bounty of nature. Nature had a way of taking care of its own...
...And Brieanna was definitely one of them. Gnorvald was an Illusionist (or so he claimed). In any case, he was not a Druid... not even a Ranger. The clouds continued to roll in. Before long, they had covered the skies, blotting out the stars. Sprinkles began, sending the mice scurrying back to Brieanna's pouch. Soon the rain began to fall. The sleepers, locked in slumber, held by a long-dead hand, snored on.
Then, the rain put the fire out.
The best-laid plans of mice and men (and sometimes, Gnome Illusionists) often go astray. Rix coughed, swallowed a bit of rainwater, and woke up. He was wet, his bedroll was worse, and he was momentarily confused as to why there were no stars, and how he could have slept through the rain. He rolled over and saw the eagle, still asleep. The alarms went off in his head.
He threw back the flap and leaped to his feet, filling his hands with steel. He charged towards Brieanna and Drakhar, roaring. Drakhar snored, and Brieanna, Skiggles, and the eagle moved not!
He kicked the Dwarf, producing a snort, then Drakhar gulped and blinked, looking irritated, too. He thwacked Brieanna as he charged past, looking for the others. Finn and Celina were nearby.
"GET UP!" Rix shouted, beating each with the flat of his blade as he passed. He looked around in the dark rain. "Where is Gnorvald?"
"Munh, I dunno... I'm drowned!" muttered the Dwarf, trying to wring out his sodden cloak.
"My lute!" lamented Celina, turning it over so that a torrent of water poured from inside. "We must get out of this downpour!"
"GNORVALD!" shouted Rix, "Make for the ruins!"
Busy casting Speak with Animals, Brieanna made no comment. She made sure her mice were all present and accounted for, then Thrindor, the eagle, and finally Skiggles and the mounts. The party hastily grabbed their wet gear, and slogged off towards the ruins.
Meanwhile, Gnorvald had been busy. A quick overview of the ruins had turned up no cairns or secret doors, nor even a collapsed stairway down, but he had found some runes carved along an archway. As the adventurers approached, he was busily translating what he could, chalk in hand, underneath the protection of a Rope Trick spell.
Hearing the other adventurers approaching, he hissed, then dismissed his spell, and slunk away into the dark. He listened, wondering what had gone wrong with his master plan.
"Are we all here?" Rix asked, ever the practical one. "Brieanna, where are you? I can't see a thing in this confounded rain! Is there any place, here, with a roof?"
"Yes," she answered from out of the murk, "over this way... Give your mounts their heads; they will follow me." Then she spoke to Skiggles, and the mounts, and lead them through the piles of fallen and upturned stones. Sedge couldn't understand a word of it, but he was right behind her.
Shortly, they reached a bit of ruins where two standing walls still had a bit of roof over them, fortunately on the side opposite the wind. They crowded in, and found a small dry spot, with a chimney. A torch was soon lit, and everyone could see again. Skiggles treated them all to an extra shower, then jumped up on the hearth of the old chimney, nosing about. What he found must have been exciting, for he began barking. Drakhar moved over to take a look.
"Hey, Rix,... these prints Goblins?" he asked, knowing the Rogue had the best skill in searching out such things. Rix moved over to the chimney, examining the ashes, and looked them over carefully.
"Yup. Old, though. Only still here because of the shelter. A month, maybe." He peered out into the rain, once more. "Where's Gnorvald? Anyone seen him? He was supposed to wake me at midnight, and I think it's well past that... I don't relish having to go back out there to find him..." He paused, motioning for silence, then drew blades and moved towards where the door would have been, were there a wall there. Drakhar and the others heard nothing, but moved to back him up, anyway.
"Hullo?!?" a plainitive voice called out, followed by a loud sneeze, nearby, then some splishing noises. A few moments later, the little Gnome came into dim view, a brightly-colored handkerchief over his nose.
"Gnorvald!" Rix shouted. The little Gnome jumped, drawing his dagger, then put it away and passed under the roof.
"Thought we'd lost you!" growled the Dwarf.
"Well, it's not like you didn't try!" groused the Gnome, looking so wet and miserable that even the Dwarf took pity on him. "You guys know I can't keep up with you long-legs!"
"Come, Master Gnome," said Brieanna, "here is wet wood... Help me stack a fire, and I will light it. We will do well with another fire, tonight." The little Illusionist moved to help her, and soon the broken chimney was sizzling.
Even so, the rest of the night was miserable, wet, and cold. By morning, the rain had passed, and there were no signs of the Morgarth. The adventurers took their time with breakfast, drying out, as best they could. Telling the others to keep watch, Drakhar and Rix went out to take a look around. To their surprise, Gnorvald offered to accompany them.
"Feeling heroic, today?" asked the Dwarf.
"No, ever-so-cautious!" snapped the Gnome. "This place scares me - although I entered it alone, last night - and if you two run into anything requiring magical talents, why, the two of you might welcome the help!"
"I always welcome help!" chuckled Rix.
"Me, too!" grinned the old Dwarf.
"Let's go this way!" said Gnorvald, quickly ducking around a corner. Rix grabbed his collar, pulling him back.
"In that case," grinned the Dwarf, "I'm definitely going the opposite direction!"
"No, no!" cried the Gnome, as Rix dragged him away. The Rogue didn't listen, and the Gnome stumped grumpily along behind the pair.
They passed up a street - if street it had been - relatively free of rubble, but now acting as a water channel for last night's downpour. Drakhar had stopped to examine something on the ground, but Rix's eye was caught by the runes carved above an archway on the wall.
"Tracks, in the stream," Drakhar said, turning his head this way and that, looking at them. Rix stopped staring at the runes to look at what had caught Drakhar's eye. "something big." the Dwarf finished. Squatting, Rix disagreed.
"I think that's just some gouges from run-off, Drakhar. See how the ends are narrower, and pointy? Besides, it's too big to be feet." The Dwarf shook his head.
"It aint run-off. The pointy toes go thisaway, and the stream's runnin' thataway. An' just 'cause they're big don't mean much... Trolls are big." Rix looked at the tracks, again, then shrugged.
"Impossible to tell how old they are. What about these runes? I can't read them, but..."
"I can!" said Drakhar, scouring them with his eyes.
Skiggles panted, tongue lolling, as he watched Brieanna gear up. He didn't know much (never asking much), but he knew a journey was afoot, and they always brought a host of new smells! Sedge watched Brieanna dress with a similar expression, for reasons of his own...
Gnorvald scampered about, happy to be going on, getting closer to his goal. He knew that Roland's Cairn probably was within three day's travel (maybe a bit more), and would wager much that Brieanna knew the way.
Rix, travelling light, was pretty much always ready to go. Drakhar didn't exactly travel light, but he didn't consider that he needed much more than his mail, shield, axes, and warhammer, and he was ready.
Finn, not having taken his pack off since the "fight" with the beastmen, had nothing to gather, for a change. He was as ready as he would ever be.
Sedge, of course, had no hands, now, and little worry about equipment... for the time being. Hopefully, that would soon change!
Skiggles, of course, had even fewer worries, save getting stepped on by a careless companion. He watched as Brieanna finished gearing up.
The Centaur looked around, morosely. She hated crowds, and to her, this was one.
"Let us go," she said. Finn mounted Sedge, and she paused outside the barn doors to let the rest mount their steeds as she closed the doors, then lead them down the path to the road.
They travelled the rest of the day, in relative quiet, except for the bard's lute. Even the forest seemed hushed. Brieanna thought of her youth, and the destruction of her village, Roland's death, and all the legends of The Morgarth that she had ever heard. It all seemed hopeless, if they were to oppose... It.
Skiggles thought of little. His nose was busy. He didn't smell any rabbits, but there were some birds and lizards, although he couldn't catch sight of any of them. Didn't anyone want to come out and play?
Gnorvald thought about Roland's Horn, and how he could change the world, with it. He wondered...
Celina, too, was reviewing all he'd ever heard of Morgarth, in his own mind, which was increasing his unease, and worrying him, no end. He had heard too many tales, and almost none of them ended happily. Now, here he was, IN one!
Drakhar stumped along, glad to at least have something to do... He, alone, was looking forward to meeting this "Morgarth" character! No friend ever did a Dwarf a favor, no foe ever did one a wrong, without being repaid, in full. Payment had been due for a very long lifetime, and the interest rate was high. The principle was also quite huge: One Dwarven village, nearly all the inhabitants, a Clan's history, works of stone, art, and metal... Nay, even a thousand thousand loving strokes of his waraxe (or warhammer, whichever worked best) were insufficient repayment... He wondered if he could get this Morgarth in an Antimagic Shell, and... He drifted off into his imagination.
Rix was watching the way. Nothing much seemed to be moving, even as evening approached. That was odd. It was quiet, and that meant something. He wondered if Brieanna knew what.
Finn was busy with his own contemplations of the vision, and the day's events. For the moment, his empty wineskin... and the fact that its empiness had yet to bother him... had escaped his notice. He was too busy, for once, trying to figure out what Pelor wanted... Not the head Priest at the temple, not his instructors, not the members of the review committee; Pelor. And, he was stumped!
As the sun neared the western canopy of the forest, Gnorvald scowled, and looked around. No one was paying any attention to him (as usual), but he was wondering about camp. And dinner! He cleared his throat.
"Perhaps, good compatriots, we should begin looking for a place to sleep?" he piped. "It's time to bed my weary head!"
Startled from their private thoughts, the others looked around, murmuring assent. Rix pointed, then turned to Brieanna.
"What's that I can see there, Druidess?" he asked, pointing to a grey blot on the horizon.
"Ruins. I don't want to camp there." the centaur replied. Gnorvald sidled up to her, giving her a mournful look.
"Ah, dear... uh... Lady, is that where your red-bearded friend is buried? A place too sad to revisit, for you?"
"No." Brieanna shook her head, but said no more about it. "There is an open field a little way ahead. Come, hurry."
As darkness was falling, they entered the field, and quickly made a fire and set up camp just off the road. These woods were well guarded by Elves, and they had a Druidess with them, so they had no fear of brigands or animals, yet they found a defensible area, just in case of any other strangeness, similar to that morning's. A meal was soon prepared, and Brieanna, Skiggles, the eagle, Rix (who had said he'd take the midnight watch), Sedge, and the mounts were soon asleep. Brieanna's mice were let lose to fend for themselves.
Drakhar was even less communicative than usual, and even Celina seemed uninterested in drawing him out. Finn made a few attempts at conversation, more out of force of habit than anything else, then lapsed into silence, as well.
Continuing his unusually empathic behaviour, Gnorvald offered to take the first watch, and clean up after the meal. He was as good as his word, and as Drakhar rolled himself into his cloak, he saw the little Gnome banking the fire for the night, then quietly roaming about, the starlight barely glinting off his tiny dagger's blade.
Hours passed. The little Gnome fearlessly stalked the dark, quietly passing near the sleepers, in turn. Midnight passed, as clouds rolled in, but he let the Human Rogue sleep. At last, the Soul's Midnight came, and he passed through the camp for the final time. All were asleep, but he intended to make sure!
Moving back to the banked fire, he opened his magical spell component case, once again. Removing the false bottom, he reached deep inside, removing the mummified hand of a long-dead felon that he had gone to great pains - and no small expense - to harvest in the prescribed manner. Making several mystical passes with his hands, he spread the powder on his dagger's blade, passing it over the hand and the flame.
"...lock those who sleep in deeper sleep..." he mumbled, finishing his preparations, then tossed the hand into the banked flames, and quickly covered the coals.
There! He looked back at the others. All the adventurous fools, their mounts, even the dog and eagle, were all now locked in the sleep of the dead, held in the grasp of a Master-Thief's long-dead hand. They would not awaken until the hand released its grip, and with the fire banked, that would not be until he returned!
Looking towards the ruins, he levitated off the ground, winked out, and quickly flew towards them, to see what he could learn...
The camp was almost completely quiet. All through the field, not a creature was stirring... except for six mice. They moved cautiously through the grass, as all good fieldmice do, looking for seeds, and grains, and all such things as interest mice in their nightly forays. It was no wonder, to them, that Brieanna and the Humans slept the night away. Such was usually the case, with such large creatures. They scurried about the field happily, finding the bounty of nature. Nature had a way of taking care of its own...
...And Brieanna was definitely one of them. Gnorvald was an Illusionist (or so he claimed). In any case, he was not a Druid... not even a Ranger. The clouds continued to roll in. Before long, they had covered the skies, blotting out the stars. Sprinkles began, sending the mice scurrying back to Brieanna's pouch. Soon the rain began to fall. The sleepers, locked in slumber, held by a long-dead hand, snored on.
Then, the rain put the fire out.
The best-laid plans of mice and men (and sometimes, Gnome Illusionists) often go astray. Rix coughed, swallowed a bit of rainwater, and woke up. He was wet, his bedroll was worse, and he was momentarily confused as to why there were no stars, and how he could have slept through the rain. He rolled over and saw the eagle, still asleep. The alarms went off in his head.
He threw back the flap and leaped to his feet, filling his hands with steel. He charged towards Brieanna and Drakhar, roaring. Drakhar snored, and Brieanna, Skiggles, and the eagle moved not!
He kicked the Dwarf, producing a snort, then Drakhar gulped and blinked, looking irritated, too. He thwacked Brieanna as he charged past, looking for the others. Finn and Celina were nearby.
"GET UP!" Rix shouted, beating each with the flat of his blade as he passed. He looked around in the dark rain. "Where is Gnorvald?"
"Munh, I dunno... I'm drowned!" muttered the Dwarf, trying to wring out his sodden cloak.
"My lute!" lamented Celina, turning it over so that a torrent of water poured from inside. "We must get out of this downpour!"
"GNORVALD!" shouted Rix, "Make for the ruins!"
Busy casting Speak with Animals, Brieanna made no comment. She made sure her mice were all present and accounted for, then Thrindor, the eagle, and finally Skiggles and the mounts. The party hastily grabbed their wet gear, and slogged off towards the ruins.
Meanwhile, Gnorvald had been busy. A quick overview of the ruins had turned up no cairns or secret doors, nor even a collapsed stairway down, but he had found some runes carved along an archway. As the adventurers approached, he was busily translating what he could, chalk in hand, underneath the protection of a Rope Trick spell.
Hearing the other adventurers approaching, he hissed, then dismissed his spell, and slunk away into the dark. He listened, wondering what had gone wrong with his master plan.
"Are we all here?" Rix asked, ever the practical one. "Brieanna, where are you? I can't see a thing in this confounded rain! Is there any place, here, with a roof?"
"Yes," she answered from out of the murk, "over this way... Give your mounts their heads; they will follow me." Then she spoke to Skiggles, and the mounts, and lead them through the piles of fallen and upturned stones. Sedge couldn't understand a word of it, but he was right behind her.
Shortly, they reached a bit of ruins where two standing walls still had a bit of roof over them, fortunately on the side opposite the wind. They crowded in, and found a small dry spot, with a chimney. A torch was soon lit, and everyone could see again. Skiggles treated them all to an extra shower, then jumped up on the hearth of the old chimney, nosing about. What he found must have been exciting, for he began barking. Drakhar moved over to take a look.
"Hey, Rix,... these prints Goblins?" he asked, knowing the Rogue had the best skill in searching out such things. Rix moved over to the chimney, examining the ashes, and looked them over carefully.
"Yup. Old, though. Only still here because of the shelter. A month, maybe." He peered out into the rain, once more. "Where's Gnorvald? Anyone seen him? He was supposed to wake me at midnight, and I think it's well past that... I don't relish having to go back out there to find him..." He paused, motioning for silence, then drew blades and moved towards where the door would have been, were there a wall there. Drakhar and the others heard nothing, but moved to back him up, anyway.
"Hullo?!?" a plainitive voice called out, followed by a loud sneeze, nearby, then some splishing noises. A few moments later, the little Gnome came into dim view, a brightly-colored handkerchief over his nose.
"Gnorvald!" Rix shouted. The little Gnome jumped, drawing his dagger, then put it away and passed under the roof.
"Thought we'd lost you!" growled the Dwarf.
"Well, it's not like you didn't try!" groused the Gnome, looking so wet and miserable that even the Dwarf took pity on him. "You guys know I can't keep up with you long-legs!"
"Come, Master Gnome," said Brieanna, "here is wet wood... Help me stack a fire, and I will light it. We will do well with another fire, tonight." The little Illusionist moved to help her, and soon the broken chimney was sizzling.
Even so, the rest of the night was miserable, wet, and cold. By morning, the rain had passed, and there were no signs of the Morgarth. The adventurers took their time with breakfast, drying out, as best they could. Telling the others to keep watch, Drakhar and Rix went out to take a look around. To their surprise, Gnorvald offered to accompany them.
"Feeling heroic, today?" asked the Dwarf.
"No, ever-so-cautious!" snapped the Gnome. "This place scares me - although I entered it alone, last night - and if you two run into anything requiring magical talents, why, the two of you might welcome the help!"
"I always welcome help!" chuckled Rix.
"Me, too!" grinned the old Dwarf.
"Let's go this way!" said Gnorvald, quickly ducking around a corner. Rix grabbed his collar, pulling him back.
"In that case," grinned the Dwarf, "I'm definitely going the opposite direction!"
"No, no!" cried the Gnome, as Rix dragged him away. The Rogue didn't listen, and the Gnome stumped grumpily along behind the pair.
They passed up a street - if street it had been - relatively free of rubble, but now acting as a water channel for last night's downpour. Drakhar had stopped to examine something on the ground, but Rix's eye was caught by the runes carved above an archway on the wall.
"Tracks, in the stream," Drakhar said, turning his head this way and that, looking at them. Rix stopped staring at the runes to look at what had caught Drakhar's eye. "something big." the Dwarf finished. Squatting, Rix disagreed.
"I think that's just some gouges from run-off, Drakhar. See how the ends are narrower, and pointy? Besides, it's too big to be feet." The Dwarf shook his head.
"It aint run-off. The pointy toes go thisaway, and the stream's runnin' thataway. An' just 'cause they're big don't mean much... Trolls are big." Rix looked at the tracks, again, then shrugged.
"Impossible to tell how old they are. What about these runes? I can't read them, but..."
"I can!" said Drakhar, scouring them with his eyes.
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